Bangles
by triffickie
Summary: Bollywood fanfiction for the following films: Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Paheli, Ek Hasina Thi, Yuva.


Disclaimer: So obviously I don't own any of these characters, nor where they created by me. And I'm not making any money by writing these.

**wednesdays**  
kuch kuch hota hai, rahul/anjali, pre-film, pg, 700 words.

It was Wednesday and Rahul found her in the school gym. Instead of stretching or warming up, however, she was sitting in the audience stands, bent over school books.

"So tired of losing you're pretending to do homework?" he quipped instantly from the the door and when she didn't respond, he walked closer, trying to get her attention by bouncing the basketball he brought with him. 

Eventually she looked up at him and gave him the iciest of glares, which only made him laugh as he was used to it.

What he wasn't used to, however, was her completely ignoring him after that and going back to reading the school book.

"Come on Anjali, don't be boring!" he finally exclaimed and considered throwing a basketball at her head. He decided against it quick, when she lifted her head to look at him, her expression dead serious.

"Not today, Rahul. I need to study."

He couldn't help but be annoyed. "But we had a deal about Wednesdays! Basketball, after school, every Wednesday."

"I can't afford to fail, Rahul." She sighed, frustrated.

"You never fail, Anjali!"

"This is advanced chemistry, it's very difficult!"

"But we had a deal!"

She stared at him, rolling her eyes while he focused on putting on his best hurt look. She then grinned.

"Okay. Give me five minutes to finish this chapter. If you're so desperate to lose a game, I suppose I can only help you by winning."

Rahul snorted but instead of coming up with a witty reply, he decided to just shoot some hoops while waiting for her to finish. Every once in a while he'd glance at her, see her concentrated on reading and then turn his attention back to the ball and the basket.

At some point he turned to look at her and saw a strand of her escaping her hairband and falling onto her face. This was an extremely rare occasion as Anjali normally made sure her hair never got in the way. Rahul kept staring until her hand finally came up to her face to brush the lock of hair back behind her ear.

In was in that tiny moment that Rahul realized he had been looking at his best friend as if she was a girl. Anjali _was_ a girl, of course, but she wasn't those Sonia-Tanya-Pooja-types he normally chased after and their college was filled with, the kind of girls whose world mostly contained make-up, gossip and boys.

It was the first time he also realized that Anjali didn't fall behind those Sonia-Tanya-Pooja-types where beauty was concerned. Sure she dressed like a boy but the face, the eyes.. Rahul had never registered the fact his best friend wasn't bad to look at. In fact, in her own way, she was rather beautiful.

Suddenly Anjali looked up to see his stare, her face instantly forming a quizzical frown. "What's wrong?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and then peered at her face carefully. "Does your forehead ...really have the word 'LOSER' written on it?"

In panic she reached for her forehead but stopped in half-motion, anger blushing her cheeks.

He laughed and turned around, hearing her stomp determinedly down the stands and to him behind his back. He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself he hadn't just thought about falling in love with Anjali Sharma.

Such an impossible thought. He couldn't have.

He hadn't, he thought just as a basketball hit hard against the side of his head. He nearly fell down, seeing stars for a moment, and the next moment, watching her arrogant grin, he didn't really remember what he had just thought about.

He mimicked her self-satisfied stance and mumbled, "Girl!" under his breath. Anjali's face flushed with anger again and she launched a second basketball at his head.

Just another Wednesday afternoon.

---

Some people thought it sucked that Rahul seemed to only fall in love with Anjali after she became all "girly and pretty" on the second half. Now, seeing as how I thought Kajol was way cute on the first half as well, though not stunningly beautiful, I thought I might've not been the only one who thought that. Hence this story.

Plus I just love the Anjali/Rahul friendship character dynamic. "I don't like jokes!" "Well, I don't like youuu!". Heh.

**gamble**  
ek hasina thi, karan(/)sarika, pg-13, 182 words.

--

She's back. Karan sees change in her, tastes it when their mouths meet. She kisses him reluctantly, faking eagerness, love and passion. Sarika's always been good at faking, Karan knows. He normally doesn't care, because if he enjoys it, it makes no difference whether she does or doesn't. But her words in the back of the taxi, about jail and fighting back make him suspicious.

He pulls away and looks into her eyes, so wide and innocent, so completely oblivious to his true nature, to everything around her.

"Karan," she sighs and hugs herself against him. He smiles.

This is Sarika. If she can fight back, he'll keep her in check, even if it comes down to taking drastic measures, beating her, killing her. And if the bitch truly can fuck him over, whatever, game on. She might've learned a thing or two in the joint but Karan has been in the circles forever.

Whatever game she's playing to win, she'll lose, Karan thinks and kisses her forehead. She'll reveal her hand by accident and he'll win the next round.

He hopes.

--

It's constant powerplay with these two, manipulation etc. It's so twisted it's cool.

**ghost of his former self**  
paheli, lachchi/kishan, pg, post-film, 170 words.

--

Lachchi isn't in bed with a ghost, she knows. She feels his fingers run against her skin and there's discovery in the touch, like it's all new to him somehow.

"Morning," she whispers and it's a nice morning, she can already their daughter playing outside with other children and see the sunlight shower the room.

His eyes are also open. "Morning."

-

Sometimes she can find him spacing out, staring at the accounts, his lips mouthing amounts and other numbers absent-mindedly.

"Kishan," she says and he looks at her, snapping back to reality.

They smile at each other and when she puts out her hand, he takes it.

He always takes it.

-

Every now and then he disappears for an afternoon and returns carrying plump, red berries in the hem of his shirt.

She finds it silly of him, but realizes that this is her life, her love right now. Not magic and miracles, but berries and banality.

This is all she ever wanted in the first place.

--

This is obviously just my interpretation of the ending. Because I liked Kishan, the grumpy poor thing. "Baoji!", hehe. What's not to love?

**tales of one dysfunctional love**  
yuva, lallan/shashi, r, 680 words.  
--

Her hand slaps his cheek three times. Her eyes are sad but he focuses on them. One, two, three.

Then he looks down, as if to say, _There. We're even now._

They hold each other for a while after he lets go of her wrist. When he meets her eyes the next time, she's smiling.

-

She doesn't even remember how they fell in love. It seems like he just appeared in front of her one day and the next moment she was breathing in his scent and wasn't ever going to let go. Love's long arrow piercing their hearts together, that's what it felt like. Stinging and painful but just being close was enough pleasure to last a lifetime.

-

He hit her for the first time three weeks before he went to prison. Job stress filling his head, he wandered around their apartment and when she tried to calm him down (talk him out of it, change him), he kept repeating, "I'm not a good man."

It was true. But she wouldn't believe him, wouldn't hear any more of it.

After the smack she cried and he broke a glass by smashing it against a wall in fury. Like a dog with its tail between its legs, he soon calmed down and walked towards her, taking her wrist. At first she tried to pull away but when her palm smacked against his cheek so hard she felt the stubble burn, she just stared back in shock.

She understood.

He never had to say "I love you" or "Forgive me". They didn't need such words, she thought, because they were special.

-

He bit and licked and made love to his wife, and they could spend hours in bed on certain mornings, just being close. Laughing.

He kissed her smile. Again and again.

Sometimes soft & sweet.

-

"What is this?" she find herself asking but she knows what it is, she can feel the cool of the metal against her fingers. A gun in their home.

("I'm not a good man.")

Things break again and when he closes the gap between them, it's only to grab her hair and reveal his teeth. Spitting ugly, angry words and her vision blurs from the tears that gather in her eyes.

_Please never let that gun kill anyone_, she pleads him the next night as they lie side-by-side in bed. He feels cold against her.

Sometimes rough & painful.

-

Not a moment goes by when she doesn't think about him. Feeling a part of him inside her, always, hating him, she cries angry tears until she loves him again. Hating that love, him inside her, inside her. ("My son.." "I thought you wanted a daughter.")

But he's gone. Disappeared. Probably killed somebody, and in hiding. Bastard. Bastard.

Her friend walks her to the hospital. She could never divorce him. She just needs to get rid of him, his voice in her head, him inside her.

For the first time ever, she sees him desperate, angry tears and rage shaking his body and she's sad but happy in a twisted way that she got to witness this. Him, weak. Her, suffering but strong. And then there's just them again. Just them, loving each other.

She looks into his eyes, "Will you become someone else for me?" and he nods but doesn't promise.

-

Doesn't promise.

She waits for him at the train station and travels to the village. She lives her own life for the first time ever and it hurts but she has to do it.

-

After prison sentence number two, he seeks her out.

"I killed someone," he says and she knows he's not lying.

"I have your son," she replies just as the little boy comes running out of the house, running past them, never stopping to look.

He stares at the boy and takes a step forward but she doesn't even flinch. He's trembling, falling apart in front of her but no amount of prayers or burning slaps can correct everything this time.

Hearts no longer connected, it doesn't sting, it doesn't hurt.

--

Because they're the most dysfunctional couple I've ever seen in a Bollywood film and that just rocks. Plus, Rani-Abhishek is a great jodi.


End file.
